Sessionus Interruptus, tales from the Watt.

You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you'll find you get what you need. - the Rolling Stones
Knee high close-outs dominated the evening. 38th and Castles, 6/27/2019.

   I could say that the Target should have paid closer attention to the signs. A minor squeal here. A slight knocking there. A little hesitation. However, all could have been so negligible that it was never a blip on Target's radar. Hence, the "Check Engine Light," the various engine noises, combined to interrupt the session and forced him to turn home before we finished the evening...the Target never saw it coming.

No stick needed. Easy glidin' for the summer locals.

    The late afternoon's session started out tame enough. Pretty low key waves were on tap. Thigh high at best...seriously, at best (with emphasis). The swell had little power, so those in the lineup had to work for each ride. The longboarder had the easiest time, starting farthest outside and seemingly catching most with ease. The sponger caught a few, but would have been lost without the swim fins. However, I gotta say, it was the herd of groms that threw me off. After quickly snagging that elusive first ride, a half dozen or so young'ns filled the lineup, and completely took away my focus. Like fish in a feeding frenzy, they were everywhere. Speaking of, I took the opportunity given by a school of spot and mullet jumping in the surf during an Atlantic Dolphin feeding furor, to move a hair north out of the crowd. Finally settled in, I was able to cut into a few of the mini-rollers that came through in threesome sets. Not a memorable surf, but a pleasant evening in the water.
   I could go on and talk about how memorable our foodie destination of the night was. I could, however at this point we go back to where this tale began...the "Check Engine Light." It is a vehicular warning light that all owners dread. It drives me crazy, even when not accompanied by a host of other pain points. As LWatt and I arrived at Ocean 13, Target called to inform of us of his challenges and decision to head back west. We kept in touch until his safe arrival home. Needless to say, this saloon would have to wait for another time to face our critique. Maybe the surf will pick up as well. Maybe.

TBD